Don’t you remember, babe, that way the juice
trickled down our chins, how we licked it off
each other so tenderly, and all the while your
LP of the Stones was playing Tumbling Dice?
Together we burnt all possible candles at both
their ends, drooled over every seductive food
we knew. I fed you asparagus and hollandaise,
fat oysters stuffed with garlic, buttered bread
crumbs and Pernod, dunked biscotti in sweet
Vino Santo. You dangled crisp fried criadillas
before me, dazzled me with every shape and
size of sausage (oh those morcillas), dropped
succulent coquilles and slippery melon balls
into my insatiable mouth. Honey, you told me,
I got no money, I’m just a rank outsider. But what
did I care? Offering you a last limp asparagus
spear, I never stopped to worry. Oh, roll me,
baby, I said, just roll me, got to roll me, roll me …